Origins: Devil Team
by swampfireian41
Summary: Origins of Devil Team, pre-military life, had they got their bad ass skillz, and why they rely on each other so much. Cover image: Sketched in school... during math, science, french and other boring subjects. I'm a freaking artist! Seriously, that drawing was a HUGE accomplishment for me. I usually SUCK at drawing.
1. Hello, motherfuckers!

**This takes place in the present day era in New York City; all 5 boroughs. This is a description of a typical raid the team does. They are part of the 1****st**** SFOD-D, but fight terrorism and gangs on the home front. When they reach 21, they're officially allowed on Delta operations in foreign lands.**

I carefully lined up the sights of my rifle with the center of the guard's chest, while my spotter, Angel, called out wind speed, direction, and elevation adjustments. "Wind is 12 miles per hour, left to right, adjust three clicks right." I replied, training from the last 3 years taking over. "Copy, three clicks to the right. Adjusted." "Elevation is plus 1.25 clicks. Adjust." I moved the crosshairs accordingly. "Adjusted. Waiting on your mark." "Solid copy. 3... 2... 1... execute, execute!" I broke the 4-pound trigger, and the sound of a suppressed round leaving the barrel was heard. The bullet shattered the glass and killed the guard instantly with a hit to the spinal cord. "Take out the others, adjust accordingly. I'm helping Saturn with the infil," Angel said, taking off across the roof. I lowered my rifle, fired, and racked up another kill. I tagged 5 more before the signal came that infil was ready.

We were zip lining in through several of my shattered windows. I switched the scope out for an M68 Close Combat Optic scope. I then hooked up to the line, gave the others a thumbs up, and we were gone. We rapidly descended, smashing through the windows and surprising the remaining guards. I handled the right side, Angel the left, and Saturn handled our front. We mowed them down with accurate rifle fire; one shot, one kill. It helped our rifles were chambered for the NATO 7.62 round, as well.

We stacked on the door; in this case, what was left of it. Saturn prepped a flash crasher (just how the US Navy says flash bang), and I kicked in the door. He tossed it in, and we received inaccurate and sprayed AK and Uzi fire, as well as several other civilian rifles and handguns. Angel took out a frag, pulled out the pin, and cooked it off and waited... 1... 2... 3... 4... THROW! The sound of an ear-deafening explosion and screams from wounded and dying were heard.

We went in, I strafing left, Saturn right, and Angel on my ass. "Sat, tango at your 2:30." One shot. "He's gone." "Angel, watch your 11." "Solid copy." A suppressed burst of fire from her Bushmaster M4A3. "Multiple tangos KIA." I lined up a gangster in my scope, fired, and put a round through his trachea.

"CYCLONE, FUCKER WITH A KNIFE, YOUR 9:45!" Saturn hollered. I whirled around, bringing out my KA-BAR. He slashed low, and I parried. I kicked him in the crotch, and he doubled over, giving me time to knee his face, and cut his neck. I sheathed the knife, and fired my HK USP handgun, putting a .45 round in 3 criminals. I reloaded my rifle, slamming in a new mag of 20 rounds, and pulled back the bolt, putting a round in the chamber. "Guys, found the power room. Putting a 40mm round in the generator." Whump... KA-BOOM! "Devil, NVGs on now, and flick on your lasers." We did as ordered, and began using our equipment to our advantage.

We cleared the top floor, and moved down to the first. I crouched, and held up a fist. With the lights out, these guys couldn't see us in our black clothing. I grabbed a guy and slit his throat. Angel stabbed one through the heart. The rest were in a group, so at the basement entrance, Saturn turned around and put a 203 round in the middle of 'em, blowing them sky high. We entered the basement, and found... cages... cages full of human wastes, clothes, food, and bodies...

I growled, "These little bastards. As if their gang war wasn't bad enough, but they're slaving people, too?" How low can you get? A man, likely the warden, saw us in his flashlight and started yelling. I put two rounds in him, one in each lung. He collapsed, and died of lack of oxygen. Within seconds, dozens of guys surrounded us. I grinned, and whistled a tune. The right wall, connected to the sewer, blew open, revealing our 4th team mate, Blackjack. He hefted his M240 Bravo 7.62 MMG, and laid down a wall of lead, killing or crippling a lot of them. Using their surprise, we wiped the rest out.

I looked in a room, and saw it full of weapons; civilian and military grade. I placed a small amount of C4 plastique explosives; it wouldn't take much to go boom. Blackjack put down 5 more pounds. He grinned, "Overkill: So often unnecessary, so often preferred." I chuckled, and noticed two figures moving in one of the cages. I ran over, and busted the lock with a single shot, and swung the door open. Inside was a girl about my age, and a little one, probably her sister, who looked to be about 4 years old. They scrambled away, crying a little bit. The little girl kept saying, "Monster!" I realized I still had my skull mask on. I took off my helmet and balaclava, and lowered my rifle to the ground and held my hands out. "Hey, its s'okay, I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm just here to help, to get you out. I promise," I whispered softly.

Angel came up behind me, and took off her headgear; too, letting her ponytail out, revealing brown hair so dark it looked black, just like mine; which makes sense, 'cause we are twins. She smiled gently and introduced herself, OPSEC out the window. "Hey there, my name's Angelica, Angelica Campbell. He's my twin brother, and his name is…" I rolled my eyes and said, "Jonathan. Just call me Johnny or John, though." The little girl stared at me, then asked, "Pinky pwomise not to huwt me or Joey?" I smiled and intertwined our pinky fingers and said, "Pinky promise."

Blackjack cleared his throat, and looked distressed. "Uh, guys, sorry, but, uh… I set the timer for the C4 to, aahhhh, 10 minutes, about 5 minutes ago…" My eyes widened, and I threw on my gear again. I turned to Joey, "Can you walk?" She nodded, but said, "Walk, yes, run, probably not. And Kathrine can't keep up." I didn't hesitate, "Angel, grab the kid. Joey, hold on tight and do NOT let go." I picked her up bridal style and shouted, "GET OUT THROUGH THE HOLE! MOVE IT, C'MON!" We ran out, with 4:44 minutes left.

We ran as far as we could, and felt a rumble followed by a larger one. I pulled Joey close and crouched, letting my back plate take the brunt of the concussion wave and whatever debris was flying our way. After that, we ran and exited out the sewer entrance we always used, because it was directly linked to our house. We crawled through a few pipes, and exited in the basement of our home. I put Joey down on my bed, and took off all my combat gear and hid it. Then I sat down next to her.

"Y'all right, miss?" I asked, eyeing her for injuries and such. She nodded, but her stomach growled, and she blushed in embarrassment. I chuckled, and told her Angelica could help set her up while I fixed up something to eat. After a half hour, I had 10 chicken breasts cooked, and gave 2 each to Joey and Kathy. Afterwards, Angelica and I slept on the floor; well, I did. She slept on the couch, smirking at my glaring. She stuck her tongue out at me, and we had a stupid face war… which evolved into a verbal fight… which evolved into a rough housing… which resulted in everybody yelling at us to go to sleep. I grumbled, but swiped a pillow from her and a blanket, and fell asleep, dreaming of the past, when this all started…

**AHAHAHAHA! CLIFFY! Anyway, next chapter will be a flashback to when it all began, when Johnny and Angelica ran away, to the Army recruiting station, to some training parts (I'm 12. I won't pretend to know what I don't. Any and all former service members or kids of service members, who want to help me, please do. It's much appreciated.), to now. G'day… Night… Afternoon… YOU GET THE POINT!**


	2. Rise of the Devils

It was raining. A downpour, drenching us completely. We went on, racing through the streets of New York on the motorcycle I hotwired. We made a turn down Flatbush Avenue, near the Barclays Center. (I still don't care about basketball...) Two minutes later, we saw our destination. I slammed the brakes, turning sideways, sending sparks flying. I looked at our destination: U.S. Army Career Center.

My twin sister looked at me, "You may be able to lie about your age, but I'm still kinda short. Better start praying, bro." I nodded, and took off my helmet, revealing a mop of brown, almost black hair. "I know. I'll think of something. Growth disorder, maybe?" She rolled her eyes, and said, "You still haven't came up with an excuse? Seriously, Johnny? Now let's get outta the rain before we get sick. I'm cold." I grinned, despite our current situation. "Of course, Mistress Angelica. I'd be happy to oblige."

We went in, soaking wet in a dry and clean office. I walked over to the recruitment officer, and cleared my throat. She looked up, and I did a quick look at her rank. Triple bars, with another under an emblem. Staff Sergeant. "Excuse me, Staff Sergeant, I'm looking to enlist. Are you the right person to speak to?" She nodded, "Yes I am. However, you look a little young. Is she your girlfri-Ah, nevermind. Looks more like your sister. Anyway, I'll need to confirm your age. Your parents' number, please?" She had a slight Carolinian accent. I tensed immediately at the mention of my parents. Angelica tensed beside me.

"They're... dead, ma'am. And I have no direct family and I don't know any of my other relatives." She eyed me carefully, then sighed. "You're the 8th one this month to try this. I'm sorry but I'll have to ask you to leave." I sighed, and turned and was about to leave when a man's voice said, "Wait a minute, young man." I turned and saw a man, middle aged and greying, standing in the doorway, eying me curiosly. The staff sergeant immediately stood and saluted. "Colonel, sir!" He waved her off and she sat back down.

He motioned for us to come over, and after a brief mental conversation with each other, Angelica and I walked up to him and followed him into his office. He locked the door and gestured for us to sit. "Now, before you begin questioning me, I'm Colonel Samuel Peterson, current commanding officer of the U.S. Army's 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta. I know who you are, and your records are impressive. Masters of concealment and camouflage, deadly with any weapon when you're paintballing or airsofting, you always just go by yourselves, and win. I've also heard you're impressive at urban combat." We shared a look and smirked. "Well, sir, living in New York City helped a lot..." Angie replied.

He chuckled a bit, then looked at us very, VERY seriously. "I know why you're here, and I've seen it before. I'm here to offer you something. I can't ship you overseas, but you can be a combat unit battling homegrown terrorists, criminals, anything the police or national security can't deal with. I want you two in my unit. The choice is yours. Wanna join the D-Boys?" He raised an eyebrow at our expression. I swear. my jaw was on the floor and my eyes were not supposed to physically be that big. I looked at my twin, and we used our super duper awesome cool uber mad skill twinlepathy.

'Well, this may be a once in a lifetime opportunity. Should we?' asked Angelica. I made a quick reply, 'I wanna do it. But I'll stick by your side. It's your call, Angel.' She slighty smiled, and turned back to Colonel Peterson. "We accept your offer, Colonel." I grinned, and gave peck on her forehead. She punched me lightly in my shoulder, and returned it on my cheek. Thank the maker (Star Wars reference!) she's 4 inches shorter, if she was the same height, I couldn't carry her easily. Yes, I still carry her. Problem? Feel free to state it... after your teeth are smashed out and nose is broken.

Colonel Peterson allowed a smile on his grim face. He then brought out some papers and asked us to sign. He stood up and we followed. He saluted us and said, "Welcome to the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta, Sergeants Johnathan and Angelica. Wanna callsign?" Angie responded within a second, "Angel, sir." She gave me a wink. Because I couldn't say her full name when we were kids, I always got stuck at the L. So I always called her Angel, and it stuck. He turned towards me, and raised an eyebrow. I gave it some thought, and smirked. "Cyclone, Colonel. I'd like to be called Cyclone."

Time skip: 1 year; date: January 6th, 2017. 2 years, 5 months and 12 days until cleared for overseas deployment. Current location: Training Facility "Nightmare", somewhere in North Carolina.

"Demonic Dou, this is HQ. We need you to vape those guards before you can breach and clear the building. Reminder, HVT 'Longstreet' must be captured ALIVE. Good luck and godspeed. Hall out." I pulled back the bolt on my HK417 rifle, currently with a bipod and a 10 power scope. I zoomed the scope in enough so it wasn't too close or too far. "Adjust 1.5 clicks left for windage, 2 clicks up for elevation. Take out targets, snipers and radiomen first, then take out machine gunners and rocketeers. Riflemen last. Cleared to fire in 3... 2... 1... Execute, execute!" Angel listed my adjustments and list. I had stopped breathing by 2. I gently pulled the trigger, putting a 7.62mm round through a guard's neck... at least that's what would've happened. The guards were fellow Delta operators. We were using simunition, or simulated munitions. Anyways, back to my mad sniping skillz.

Said guard dropped, and pushed his weapon away, putting his hands out and spreading eagled out. I moved over, putting another piece of lead into a sniper's spinal cord. Paralyzed, will die of bleeding. Two kills. One through a radio and it's owner's head. Three. Tango with an RPG had her rocket blow up. Four down. RPD gunner and her feeder have empty eyes sockets and are missing about a quarter of their brains. 5 and 6. Squad leader gets a missing heart, ans that puts me at seven. SVD Dragonouv? Sniper, you're missing your trigger arm, how the hell you gonna shoot? It went on like that for another 43 minutes. We started crawling through the thick jungle brush.

We stripped off our ghillie suits, and reapplied our camoflauge paint. After checking each other over, (ew, we're not incest siblings) we crouched down and moved through the jungle. We had to cross a river to get to the compound, so we swam down, holding our breath for 3:14 minutes (Hey, that's Pi!) and raised up out of the water, said liquid dripping off our boonie hats and arms and weapons. I had put in a new mag before swimming, so I pulled back the bolt and let the water in the chamber out before getting onto the mossy riverbank.

The compound was in a clearing. I moved up above the brush, leaves and twigs on my rifle and upper body. Angel and I were wearing M81 long sleeve t-shirts, sleeves rolled up, with matching cargo pants and boonie hats. Our hands had leather gloves with the index fingers and thumbs cut off. We had hiking boots, without tucking in our pants. Our camo paint went from our hairline, down to our shoulders, and from above our elbows to our fingernails. It was done in the same pattern as the rest of our clothes. I slowly put the scope on behind my holographic sight, giving me a 4x scope with my hybrid sight. I scanned the target area, looking for any signs of a threat. It seemed clear, so I waved up my sister/partner (in crime, but that's for the next chapter, my minio-err, you young readers), and stacked on the door.

We shared a look and grinned. Doors are for then promptly scaled the wall, and climbed onto the roof. Thank the gods that this is only a single floor building. I placed a ring of wall charges that would blow the ceiling in, allowing us to slide into the room. I took my place on the right, and saw Angel gave me a thumbs up. I nodded, and set the timer for 5 seconds. 5...

4...

3...

2...

1...

Ka-boom.

We slid in baseball style, left leg tucked under our right, which was pointing forward, ready to smash some unlucky soul's face. The guards opened up on the door, putting a mag each into it. We were on their right, so I stood up to fire while Angie took a kneeling position. She had a HK UMP submachine gun, chambered for the .45 ACP round. Even in simunition, that sucker hurt.

There were 6 guards, 5 rifleman, armed with HK416s, M14s, and M4 rifles and carbines. I flicked my selector switch to full automatic and aimed at the waist of the targets... err, guards. I then emptied the 20-round magazine into them, sweeping left to right. They were all tagged at least 8 times each by the Demonic Dou. I pulled out a Remington Model 870 shotgun, and aimed at the door leading to the target room. I pumped it, fired at the upper door hinge, ejected the round, blasted off the lower hinge, pumped again, and blasted the doorknob, then kicked in the door, blowing it straight into a guard, crushing him under it.

I pulled out my HK USP .45 ACP handgun, and while moving to cover behind the door, blasted both of the HVT's kneecaps, immobilizing him. He dropped down, and got prone. Said already too many times teammate tossed in a flash bang, which caused a torrent of fire to be fired through the door. I tossed my own after her's went off, while they were reloading. They couldn't see where to put the magazines, so they were defenseless. I strafed left, and put two rounds in each guard. There were 5 guards. One threw himself over the HVT, so I peeled him off and smashed the buttstock of my rifle into his face, knocking him out cold, while Angie zip tied the target.

I put my left hand to my left ear, and activated my radio mic. I radioed the pilot of the orbiting Marine Corps UH-1Y Venom, the still-used version of the old Vietnam era Huey. That chopper is a badass, with two miniguns, two rocket pods, and two M60E4 machine guns mounted by the crew chiefs in the doorways. "Archangel 3-2, Demonic 1, target secured, and compound clear. Requesting evac on the roof, over," I whispered, watching the trees and brush for enemy forces preparing for a counterattack. I saw a gun barrel in a tree, and responded by slowly targeting the barrel, point my rifle up by about 8 inches, and fired, knocking the marksman out of his/her perch. I got back on the horn (gotta love old terminology), "3-2, be advised, enemy in the treeline, advise to strafe the immediate area before landing." The pilot replied, "Negative, gonna come in, and give you 3 seconds to get on and out of there." I gave her an affirmative, and repeated back to Angel, who was preparing to move up to the roof quickly via the "sunroof" we made.

A few minutes later, we heard the familiar helicopter blades of the Venom beating ryhtmaically. I heard over the pilot's freqeuncy the pilot issue a single command, "3-2, get ready. 3-2 Peter, 3-2 Charlies, guns, guns, guns. Repeating, 3-2 is guns, guns, guns." I heard the quick bursts of fire from the M60s, and the steady bzzzzt of the miniguns pounding the jungle. "Move, move, move!" I yelled, dragging Longstreet up to the roof. 3-2 flared quickly, and I tossed in Longstreet, and Angelica and I sat in the left hand doorway. "All clear, now let's get the hell outta Dodge!" I screamed at the pilot, who flipped me off. We rose to about 500 feet, taking fire from enemy machine guns on the way out. We grinned and high fived each other, and lay back, falling asleep.

Time skip: Graduation; Date: March 26th, 2017.

We wore our black berets proudly, looking sharp in our dress uniforms, Sergeant's stripes on our left arm and collar, with the Sniper, Airborne, Ranger, Special Forces, and the newly approved 1st SFOD-D tab on our right arm, along with the emblem of ASOC: a red triangle, with a knife in the middle, and in our case, with a three point lightning bolt in the background. Each point represented one of our specializations: Sea, Air, and Land. No, we're not SEALs... we just specialize in all three, like the Marines, Rangers, neighboring Green Beanies, etc. Anyway, we were given our honorary tattoo, and I chose mine to be a soldier holding hands with another, unseen person. Angie held the other half. I also got a skull with a baseball helmet, over crisscrossed baseball bats, except they were broken.

We also were sent back to our home state for operations, and got our team name. Colonel Peterson came up to us, and pinned a devil on our unit patch. "Sergeant Angelica, Staff Sergeant Johnathan (Yeah, I outrank my sister... for now. She's getting her fourth stripe tomorrow), you're assigned to Devil Team, under Master Sergeant Jordan Hall, callsign Saturn, and Sergeant Joshua Smith (so original :p), callsign Blackjack. Welcome to the Unit, guys. Go kick some ass."

A/N: ...I wrote this entirely on my iPad Mini in afterschool. I HAVE INSPIRATION! Feedback is appreciated. Flames, if not helpful, are not. Now go away you anti-Americans, nobody likes you. Now go away you Islam extremists. Sane Muslims hate you. (I'm looking at you, Mr. Taliban.) Good night... morning... afternoon... WHATEVER!


	3. R&R, Drool, Punk Rock, and baseball

I awoke to a hard surface on my back, not my bed. I struggled to recall the events of yesterday, and remembered that girl, Joey, had taken my bed, her sister Angie's, and Angie took the couch. Or so she was supposed to have taken it. I saw her drooling all over my Green Day American Idiot short sleeve t-shirt. I groaned; that was one of my favorite. I sighed and came to terms with it, wrapping my arms around her, just like I used to when we were kids or when one or both of us weren't feeling the best.

Suddenly she yawned, stretched, and stared at me sleepy eyes. She then rolled off me, allowing me to get up. I started to make my way to the bathroom when she groaned and held out her arms. I rolled my eyes and got her on my back. I proceeded to give her a piggyback ride to the bathroom. I left her there after we finished brushing teeth and waking up. I walked up to my room, and saw Joey still sleeping. I tiptoed (like a ninja) over to my dresser, and pulled out a black short sleeve t-shirt, my dark blue jeans that were ripped in multiple places due to wear and tear, kneeling, knives (ow), and bullets (big owie), some socks, and a pair of boxers. I went back to the bathroom and changed. I found Angelica doing the same.

Now, you perverts may be going, "What! You're siblings! Ew, incest!" Wrong, that just makes it okay for us. After all, we had to take care of each other after our parents died. We lived on the streets and in the wilderness for about 7-9 years by ourselves. Anyway, I checked the date and started to grin in excitement. Today was the first game for a baseball team Colonel Petes (as I dubbed him) had set up. I got to have any position I wanted, and I had pitcher and second baseman. I went to cook breakfast.

I reached up to the cabinets above the stove and grabbed some pancake mix, our big bowl, the mixer thingamahozie (yeah, I actually call it that), the spatula, and the cooking surface. I also grabbed my favorite that I put in both mine and Angie's pancakes: CHOCOLATE CHIPS! I started making the team's first, 2 each. Joey came down the stairs with Katie in her arms, clutching her tightly. I turned around, and said, "Hey, either of y'all want pancakes?" Joey eyed me warily before nodding. I gave her a thumbs up before whirling around again, saying, "Want chocolate chips in 'em?" She started thinking, while Katie, who was on her lap, began bouncing saying, "Yes pwease, mister. Pwetty pwetty sooper dooper pwetty pwease!" I grinned, and whipped up two with chocolate chips, poured some chocolate milk, cut it for her, and handed her the food and milk with a fork and napkin. She dug in.

I looked at Joey with an eyebrow raised. She nodded timidly, trying to avoid making a mess with Katie. I soon had the entire team sat down eating. I changed into grey baseball pants and a black New York Mets short sleeve and cap, as was the rest of the team. I finished and collected all dirty dishes. I put them in the dishwasher, and prepped for travel: equipment bag, with my glove, helmet, bat, batting gloves, bat weight, and a water bottle. I pulled up my pants, and slid my KA-BAR into the sheath there. When I got to the car, everyone was waiting. Joey looked confused as hell, and Katherine wasn't much better off.

I filled them in, "We have a ball game in Brooklyn today. Wanna come?" Katherine's eyes lit up and she started bouncing and repeating, "Yes, yes, yes, yes! I wuv baseball!" I chuckled, and told them to come aboard. I threw my bag in the back, and started up the truck. We had a Yukon XL, black, with lots of space. I eased on the gas, and drove out to the Brooklyn Bridge. As per standard operating procedure, there was a 30 minute wait on the highway. Yeah, fuck you, too, New York City.

I switched on the American Idiot CD we bought a while back... Okay, we MAY HAVE stolen it... Okay, we did. Just quit giving me that look! Yes, that one! Quit it! I'm trying to drive here! (cue honking) Stupid old guy, driving at 20 mph at rush hour...

Anyway, the teams were actually all from different units. Today we're playing the Ranger 2nd Battalion, Horsepower Platoon team from upstate at Fort Drum. They were the "Flaming Phantoms." I snorted at the name. (A/N: So original. I thought of fire and Danny Phantom when I wrote this. qq) It was freaking hilarious. They did have badass uniforms, though. Black shirts and hats, with neon green stripes and numbers and names. Their pants were a dark grey to complete the look. Thing was, they weren't such a good team... Oh hey, we're here!

The End... of the chapter. I'ma skip ahead by about 2 weeks or so for the next one, or start the sequel for FA&CH. Got a MAJOR plot twist for that. Spoiler? Okay, the twins (no, not the Stolls. MY twins.) are actually kids of Atlas and former Herespides. John was the only male, but they were the first. Also, they have a triplet sister who is currently in the stars. (Zoe) Before they escaped, Atlas placed a curse on Johnny. Whenever he sees either of his sisters wounded, he'll go on an uncontrollable rampage, killing friend and foe. Chaos solved the friendly fire problem, but he still can't control it. When Caitlyn gets knocked out by Kronos, he loses it and cries for the one person who can keep him under control: Zoe. She comes back to life and calms him down. Since they were the first children if Atlas, alive since the first Titan War, they have been through every battle in history. John then goes all scary badass mode, and starts summoning and re-aliving the unalived (Deadpool reference, "Ultimate Deadpool" on Ultimate Spider-Man) soldiers, from the first Greeks, to the legions of Rome, from the Templars of the 11th century AD, to the British at the Ohio River Valley, from Yorktown to Gettysburg, the trenches of France to the shores of Iwo Jima, from Korea to Khe Sanh, from Panama to Somalia, and Iraq and Afghanistan. He then summons the most feared and respected army of all time. I'll give you a hint: King Leonidas and Sparta. Yup, he was with the Spartan army of the famed Last 300. Pretty cool, right? Also a cameo appearance from one of my classmates.


End file.
